How Close They Came
by SineTimore
Summary: Picks up where 03x22 ends. Airplanes often take you places that you never imagined. One shot.


**Disclaimer: I can barely string 2 coherent sentences together about this show. No way in hell I could actually work there.**

**A/N: So, this is my first foray into M-adjacent material. It's tame but this gal's gotta start somewhere. Baby steps to the porn? I'll work on the mantra. As always, thanks to everyone who stops by my corner of the world to read and to comment. I'm nothing without you.**

It hits her like a tidal wave, the flow of desire and the ebb of fear. He's entirely at peace, asleep in the seat next to her, oblivious to the maelstrom that now envelops her.

The paper of Royce's letter is soft from her repeated handling, creased in permanent fashion. As her fingers caress its worn edges, her eyes float to him, here, with her, again. Not often the beneficiary of silent moments in his company, she takes her time, examines the dance of his eyelids, the line of his lips, the strength of his jaw, the way his body moves only at the behest of his lungs. _Risking our hearts is why we're alive_. The words on the page play over and over again and, in this moment, they strike like lightning.

He startles awake at the touch of her hand, the hand, she now realizes, that seems to have moved to his cheek entirely without her knowledge or consent.

"Hey," he mumbles sleepily, "are you okay? What are you doing?" It's not accusatory, simply confused.

Her body, now in a tug-of-war with her mind for control over this moment, blushes from a combination of embarrassment at being caught and excitement at the very same.

"Yeah, I'm…I'm fine, Castle, I…" She averts her eyes and directs them back to the letter which is now crushed in her hand. His slumberous eyes rest firmly on her and she can feel every silent blink in her blood. _It's clear that you and Castle have something real, and you're fighting it_. She rises from her seat then and emphatically shoves the paper into her pocket in defiance of its words that now challenge her. One step to the right and her body crowds his as she leans into him and finds his ear with her desirous mouth; the only words she utters…"Three minutes, come and find me."

He can't quite process what he's feeling because what he's feeling is everything. When _that_ woman says _those_ words, he appreciates quickly, one comes and one finds, and whereas three minutes used to feel like the blink of an eye, it now feels like an agonizing eternity. He watches her take a few short steps down the aisle and close herself in the restroom. A myriad of scenarios flash in his mind, though he's entirely certain that what he wants most is the very last thing likely to happen. He remembers the hotel room, the couch, the eyes…the door. He hates that door.

It's the thought of that door that snaps him back to here and now and the realization that she's waiting for him. He rises from his seat, too hastily, of course, his mind spiraling, and hits his head on the overhead compartment. Because that helps things. Down the aisle he moves, wincing, until he reaches the door, another door, only this time, she has asked him to follow her through.

The pair of female flight attendants huddled near the cockpit isn't entirely certain what to make of his knocking on and whispering at the restroom door. One of them finally approaches and he can sense her presence behind him.

"Can I help you, sir? Is there a problem?"

He spins slowly, more than a bit mortified by this predicament. Luckily, the writer instincts kick in and he's able to deliver a somewhat plausible response. Somewhat.

"My, uh, wife, she's not feeling well and I just need to check on her to make sure she's okay." Desperate to be anywhere other than in this state of awkward, his knocking grows more enthusiastic. "Kate, honey, can you let me in? It's me, your husband, Rick."

_God_, what is his problem? Didn't he used to be better at this? Whatever the hell _this_ is.

The door latch slides and he nods at the attendant as he's yanked in sharply by the arm. With nowhere else to land given the space at his disposal, Kate breaks his near fall with her arms wrapped tightly around his middle as an "oooof" escapes her lips.

"Kate, what the hell is going on? Whatever it is better be damn good because flying on this airline again might be off the table given the…"

The remainder of his sentence is quashed by her mouth's demanding contact, contact that instantly provokes hands and lips and arms and more want of more than either has ever experienced. He attempts to pull away, initially shocked and confused, until her soft as silk tongue crosses the threshold of his lips. Nothing in his memory has ever tasted so divine and he never wants this meal to end.

Oxygen is secondary. It can't be more important than what her lips are doing, how his body is reacting. But it is, important, because without it, _now_, he won't be able to go on. Oh, how he wants to go on and on and on. His fingers grip her waist as he forces himself backwards, striking the wall behind him with unintended force and, consequently, sound.

"Castle, shhhh" she scolds.

"In case you haven't noticed, Beckett, there isn't a hell of a lot of room in here for two grown adults to stand, let alone do _this_." Her subtle grin is anything but subtle to him as she takes a step forward to close the gap between them. "And, Kate, may I ask again what _this_ is exactly?"

"Well, Castle, if I have to explain it to you then I guess I must be doing it wrong. I mean, I've never had anyone complain before but…" His hands come to rest firmly on either side of her face, locking her eyes to his.

"Hear me when I say this, Kate: I will never, ever complain about any part of your exquisite anatomy coming into contact with mine. Ever. Did I say ever? It's just…given the other night in the hotel and…I never could have anticipated something like this happening right now. I didn't think that this was something that you wanted."

She pauses a moment and licks her lips, causing him to harden all the more, he now realizes. He's also certain that she's entirely aware of it as she cants her body into him.

"Now you listen, Castle, because these may be the last coherent words you hear me say for the very near future. I wanted you so much that night, I could barely see straight. I wanted you before that night, _long_ before. But, I've never wanted you more than I do right now. So, please stop thinking about it and put your hands on me before someone breaks this door down."

With that, he's on her. Her hands clutch the fabric of the shirt at his hips, hungry for contact with his skin. She's pressed back against the sink now, the edge of the unsightly linoleum creating what feels like a permanent mark to the back of her thighs. His hot tongue finds her neck, flushed with the heat of the small space and the surge of passion, as her leg climbs comfortably around his and locks in place. He can feel her rocking, slowly, deliberately, using the counter as leverage to maximize the friction.

"God, Castle" she mumbles breathily, which acts as a starter pistol for his body. He wants so much for this to be a marathon and not a sprint. He wants to explore every inch of her body with his eyes, his mouth, his fingers; nothing can ever compare to the sound of his name spilling from her mouth like that – nothing.

But, this is it. This is where they are. This is where it happens. This is where their lips are like puzzle pieces that align perfectly, where his hand brushes across her pebbled nipple and feels its electricity, where his hard length makes her breathe… like that, where it feels like he simply must touch her for his survival. Of all places, here. Slow and methodical. Soon.

His hands travel south along her sun-kissed skin towards the destination they can no longer circle without direct contact.

"Kate, I want to feel you. Let me feel you. Please." Their hands meet at her button, vying for the privilege of creating the opportunity they both so desperately now want. "Let me" he insists, his entire body pleading.

"Then it's only fair, Castle" she proclaims, as if she's consulted some sort of rule book. Her hand brushes across the front of his jeans, teasing, intentional. Focus is first on his zipper which she "struggles" to gain a firm grip on, or so she attempts to convey, though her eyes give her away. She relishes every second, gaining more pleasure from his obvious need for her than from his efforts.

Until…

She watches as he brings two fingers to his mouth, to prepare them, to prepare them for…"Oh, god, Castle." She's dripping wet, for him, because of him. He didn't even need to…"Rick, please." The thought of him knowing, feeling how much she wants him, this, builds her up like the climb before a roller coaster is set free. She buries her head in his neck, inhales his scent, the most intoxicating scent of Richard Castle. His fingers move like the instruments of a surgeon, precise, gentle, entirely in control.

Her small but deliberate movements against his hand grow more hurried. She recognizes her body's signals, knows that she can't contain her release for much longer, reaches for him, grips him, and he jumps forward in reaction, causing his fingers to find her warm entrance. Neither is certain from whom the resulting cry originates but it drives them both into a frenzy, culminating in the rapturous release of three years of restraint – and a subsequent rap at the restroom door.

They can barely speak, equal parts delicious fatigue and breathless mouths unwilling to disjoin. The knocking grows louder and more insistent and the muffled "Are you ok in there?" forces him to break form her and offer a "We're fine" in reply before he turns back and whispers "Actually, _way_ beyond fine. This gives entirely new meaning to 'flying the friendly skies', wouldn't you say?"

She smiles coyly – and in complete and total agreement – as she begins to pull herself together for the walk of shame back to 9B.

"Hey," she says, "remember at the hotel when you asked how close I came?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, I'd say I came pretty damn close. Actually, I'd say _we _did. Is it just me or are these airplane restrooms getting smaller and smaller?"


End file.
